Strangers
by NonFiction
Summary: Have you ever met someone and just known instantly that there was some kind of connection, some kind of attraction? It doesnt even need to be of a romantic nature. Only the feeling that you've somehow missed out on having that person in your life AUonesy


Have you ever met someone and just known instantly that there was some kind of connection? Some kind of attraction? It doesn't even need to be of a romantic nature. Only the feeling that you've somehow missed out on having that person in your life until that very moment. This is a story dedicated to the feeling of longing for a person you never knew you longed for.

* * *

I can't remember how long the wind has been at my back, pushing me along to wherever it pleases. For my entire life I was content with wandering the land. But as I sit, serene, in a cloud of smoke that reflects my own mind, I wonder. Has the time come that I stumbled onto something interesting, something that can weigh me down? I relaxed back into the hard stone of the bench, and I couldn't help but wonder what had just happened...

It was late in the day, dusk had long set in and was slowly losing ground to night's intrusion. It's impossible to tell, I mused as I swept through the nearly deserted street, just how many towns I had blown through exactly like this one. I couldn't help but give pause and reflect. As thoughts of the past circled meaninglessly in my mind, I glanced to the side by chance as I stood with a nostalgic smile haphazardly played across my features. And to my surprise, there sat some kind of dream in front of the only open tea shop along the entire street. She was so vivid, so green and delicate. But as I watched her place a small, ornate pipe up to her lips and take a deep sip of the slow death she held in her fingers, she seemed anything but. She smiles at me as the wind passes by, blowing the leaves up off the street to hang in the air. As it dies, she exhales, pushing silky smoke sliding past her lips. As the tendrils of her smokey breath twist into the air around her, her smile widens. I don't know how long I stood there, frozen in time, trying to resist in vain the pull she had on me. But as I some somehow find myself suddenly in front of her, it was all I could do just to ask her name.

She says, '_Toph. It's Toph Bei Fong, stranger_.' I remember trying to hide the smile that began to tug at my lips before I realized she held her eyes shut delicately, like they was just barely so. Her voice was full of some kind of graceful amusement, and her grin personified it in splendor.

As I studied her, I could feel my interest growing in leaps, but all I said is, '_Yo__u have an interesting name, Miss._' It was surprising, to hear my usual gruff voice sound out so gently.

I watched her smile falter as she fingers the pipe in her hand, '_It translates into suffering_.' She said stoically as she relaxed back into the stone bench she sat on and turned her head up to me. Her slim bangs fell out of her face, and I was struck by the way her pale skin glowed in the soft twilight.

I stopped, pondering the irony of her words, trying to somehow muster up the fearlessness to speak with her. But all I could focus on were her eyes, they were still held shut, but it was like she was hiding something incredible from me. As I stared, thanking my fortune she wasn't, she offered me her pipe. It was enough to shake me from my peaceful trance, and while I decline her invitation, it reminded me of the days long passed. Days when I would draw deep from that slow death smoke, days when I was broken with no hope. I sat beside her as she tucked the pipe away in the long folds or her ornate kimono. It was green, filled out with intricate birds soaring through the sky. And it occurred to me that it was more prison to her than it was clothing. It was her confinement, keeping her true self held down by duty and etiquette. As the soft orange glow of lamp light filtered out through the dusty window of the tea shop, I started a conversation.

She was silent for a long while, only giving small nods and quiet 'oh's?' when she felt it was polite. But I continued to talk, and after a while I found myself sitting forward, my head rested lazily in my hand as I listened to her speak. But everything she said was so censored. And I could tell she had the urge to speak her mind, but was somehow held back by the constraints of society. I smiled as a realization struck me. She was exactly like me, all those years ago. Imprisoned by shackles of formality and high society. She was seeking solace, in much the same way I was. And as I sat beside her in a relaxing silence, I began to think that perhaps I was intruding on her solitude. But as the thought of leaving her stirs in my head, her voice sounds out and tells me to stay. As her words echo in my mind, I can't help but fall into remembrance at how familiar a scene this was.

'_Do you think miracles were meant for us_?' She asks me suddenly. I was surprised to hear the innocence in her voice, her question was honest like all she had was the intent to find an answer. I sat, patiently gathering my thoughts in response as the wind blew by. I looked over to her, amused at how she seemed to stare off into the distance through closed eyes. She couldn't be older than twenty, not much younger than I. And I felt almost guilty as I said, '_They're not. No._'

She stops and smiles, like she's some how pleased with my answer. '_Thank you, stranger_.' She says in a voice that exudes sorrow. Again I smile, this time at the weight she was forcing on herself. As her shoulders sank in a sigh that seemed to be made of remnants of her hope I had just shattered, I knew I had made a mistake in telling her the truth. And for some reason, I couldn't stand to see her sigh and breath her dreams away.

She inhales deep, and I can only be amazed as she somehow seems so reinvigorated. But when she spoke, it held the same despair, '_I fear my tomorrow will never become today._' It was bizarre how incredibly familiar this entire conversation was. Like we had had it thousands of times.

I laugh gently at the despair in her voice, and watched her turn to me questioningly. '_I used to know a woman just like you. She was beautiful but jaded by the world. Tired and worn out, till the life had been drained out of her voice. Tired of the world trying to justify its lies with twisted notions of survival_.' I said. She smiles at me, and I wonder if I had somehow comforted her.

'_I'm not concerned with the world. People can hide in their armor all they like, but in the end, karma can reach inside you. Ultimately, lies are brought to truth. But that doesn't justify anything._' My smile fades as I hear the bitterness in her voice. And I sigh as I too lean back against the bench, looking up at the last of the failing sunlight. '_True indeed, Miss._' I say, defeated.

She began to laugh gently, like she was pleased with her victory. '_You see, just because you knew one woman well, does not mean you know them all_.' The false smile on her lips fades, and she reaches for the pipe stashed in her sleeve. She brings it to her lips and I say '_Please, let me, Miss_.' As I light her leaf with a flick of my finger, she draws in her breath deeply. In the new darkness, the ember in her pipe glows hot and bright, only to fade into the surrounding night.

She exhaled, breathing a cloud of smoke out around us and tilted her head up to the starry sky. And I begin to wonder why she refuses to open her eyes, but she interrupted my thoughts with another disheartened sigh and breathed, '_I need no one_.'

I mimicked her sigh, and looked at her as she held her head up, '_True indeed, Miss._' I said again. I saw her stop, like she held her breath, begging for me to continue, '_But you still need, everybody. Because without knowing others, how can you know yourself_?'

She takes another long inhale from her pipe and stands, flicking the ashy remnants out into the air as she exhales. With her back to me, she speaks, '_You are a very wise man, stranger..._'

'_I was taught by a very wise man, Miss_.' I replied with a smile

She turned her head to me over her shoulder, eyes still shut, '_You keep calling me Miss...but I'm to be married soon, stranger_.'

She turned around, and my heart sank as I saw the sorrow displayed across her face. Her false smile was tainted by an aura of tragedy, and I could only sympathize with her feelings. She was trapped. It was an unforgiving sensation, and one not easy to rid yourself of. So I replied, in a small attempt to draw her mind away from her prison, '_And you keep calling me stranger, but it would seem we know each other very well_.' I paused considering just what to say to her, '_Miss is just a word. Like marriage. You don't seem to me the kind of person to let a word define who you are._'

She smiled again, this time in earnest. And as her features pushed back the darkness, she opened her eyes and I felt my breath stop for a moment. They were so cloudy. And I couldn't help but appreciate the irony of just how similar they appeared to the smokey air that hung around her. Both, hiding something vibrant just waiting to burst free from it's misty prison. As she gave a curt little bow, she poke out gently, '_Thank you, stra...I don't believe I know your name_.' I watched as her smile grew, her hazy eyes glowing in the soft orange light and replied, '_Does it matter? Will you ever see me again_?'

She shrugged in response and pointed to the small building we had been sitting outside of, 'This inn has the best tea shop in the city. It's my absolute favorite.' She said in an factual manner. She flashed me one more smile and turned around in a swirl of green kimono and long raven hair, and began to walk away. Leaving me peaceful in a cloud of smoke. I watched her walk away steadily, effortlessly. Like the only thing in the world she was sure of was herself. And now that exactly is where I find myself. Wondering about what I had just experienced. I stand, and as I look up at the sky I can't help but feel a little lost. I've walked the world for many years. And until that very moment, I had never encountered anyone like her. Or even ever felt the urge to stay in one place longer than it took to pass through. I turn and look at the tea shop that she was so openly fond of. It's small, out-shined by nearly every other inn in the entire city. But There was something so welcoming about it. Something comfortable and familiar. And I found myself wandering in leisurely, lost in my own private kingdom with thoughts of the strange woman I had just met.

'May I help you, sir?' My head snaps up in surprise as the old woman behind the desk smiled at me. She seemed so friendly, and kind.

I smile down at her absently, wondering just what I was doing. But all the thoughts in my head had quieted, and without any concern, I asked, 'Do you have any rooms for rent?'

* * *

Well there you have it. Just a little one shot I decided to write on a whim. Gotta stretch the writing muscle somehow, right? I've been having some bad blockage with my other fic, so hopefully this will get me back into things. That said, I hope you didn't expect too much from this onesy haha. Anyway, in case you're unsure _somehow_, this is a semi au world where Toph still is trapped in high society and Zuko, after being ousted from the Fire Nation, wander the earth with no particular rhyme or reason. Toph is being forced into an arranged marriage (how unheard of!) and Zuko takes pity on her. Not necessarily a Toko fic, per se. But it has that underlying theme. Friendship maybe? IDK. Of course this is far more analysis than a one shot deserves, especially this one :p Please let me know what you think. Inspiration is from Sagaba, to any scholars fans.


End file.
